


Safe and sound

by killerweasel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary arrives home and discovers an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and sound

Title: Safe and sound  
Fandom: _Sherlock_  
Characters: Mary Morstan/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes  
Word Count: 1,166  
Rating: PG  
A/N: AU after _The Reichenbach Fall_  
Warnings: N/A  
Summary: Mary arrives home and discovers an unexpected visitor.

Mary paused as she slid the key into the lock. She could hear violin music coming from inside of the flat. Sometimes John would listen to violin music late at night when he couldn’t sleep, but John wasn’t home. He was at a medical conference out of the country and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Besides, the music somehow sounded clearer than what was on John’s cds.

She would have asked Mrs. Hudson about it, but their landlady (not their housekeeper), was out for the evening with her good friend Mrs. Turner. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. There was a long coat on the sofa with a scarf piled on top of it. Her eyes widened as she recognized both items from some of the pictures on John’s dresser. Once she factored in the violin music, Mary had a pretty good idea who was currently in the guest bedroom.

The music paused just long enough to acknowledge her presence before starting again. While dead men couldn’t play violin music, live ones most certainly could. Mary set the groceries down on the table in the kitchen. She started to make dinner, adding enough food for the both of them. She wasn’t sure if he would actually eat anything, what John had said about his friend’s eating habits made her wince, but she’d offer him something anyway.

She followed the music, which was absolutely beautiful, down the hall to the doorway of the bedroom. The door was wide open, which she decided was an invitation. Mary came in and sat down on the bed. He finished the song before finally turning around to see her. She gave him a smile. “You must be John’s Sherlock. You look pretty good for a dead man. Welcome back.”

“You’re John’s Mary.” The smile he gave her looked a bit odd on his face, like he rarely used it and was unsure of how to do it, but it was still a smile. “He kept most of my things in here.”

“John told me he couldn’t part with them. He’s never stopped thinking you might still be alive somehow, that it was all a trick to fool Moriarty and his people. He’s always believed in you, Sherlock.”

Mary focused her full gaze on him. Sherlock looked older than he was. There was something in his face that said he’d seen and done horrible things over the last two years. She thought about the picture on John’s dresser, about how much younger Sherlock had looked then. He was thinner now, almost dangerously thin. Most of all, he looked exhausted. It was as if all of his energy had been wrung right out of him and if he didn’t rest soon, he would simply fall over.

“You just deduced me.” He put his violin in its case. “And your deduction was correct.”

A timer went off in the kitchen. “Come have something to eat. I made enough for both of us.”

For a moment she didn’t think he was going to join her. Then he motioned for her to lead the way.

\---

“I met your brother once.” She finished her bowl of soup and sat back in her chair.

“Oh?” There was amusement in Sherlock’s eyes. He’d eaten the majority of what she’d given him and kept glancing at the cake she had on the counter.

“He had me ‘kidnapped’ on my way home from the grocery store. I was angry rather than scared, especially when he gave me a lecture about not breaking John’s heart as it had ‘already been broken before’. After I told him where he could stick that umbrella of his...” She trailed off as Sherlock choked on his tea and waited until he was breathing properly again before continuing. “I said I wasn’t planning on breaking John’s heart. That and if he ever wanted to have another chat, he could just call rather than grab me off the street. Some of the food had gone bad by that point. I made his minions take me back to the store and buy fresh things.”

Sherlock burst into laughter. Mary wondered how long it had been since he’d laughed like that. The laughter was contagious and she joined him, pausing long enough to show him the face Mycroft had made. By the time they got themselves back under control, her sides ached.

Mary got up and cut each of them a piece of cake. She waited until Sherlock started eating his before having some herself. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sherlock, what are your plans? Do you have anywhere to stay?”

He was silent for a few minutes. “All my things are here. John is here.”

“I’m here too.” Mary could see a slightly panicked look on his face. “I don’t have a problem with you moving back in, but if John doesn’t want you here, then you’ll have to make other arrangements. Your death, it shattered him for the longest time. The shards from it are still lodged around his heart. I’m sure you had a reason for doing what you did and if you explain it, he’ll understand.”

Sherlock stood, muttered something about being tired, and left the room. Mary didn’t think he was actually going to rest. She knew he was worried about how John would react to learning his best friend was still alive. With a sigh, she started cleaning up the table.

\---

Mary wondered how John had handled living with Sherlock for as long as he did. He was certainly a force to be reckoned with. She hadn’t minded him playing the violin or having a sulk on the sofa or even him throwing some of the items around in his bedroom. She’d drawn the line when he’d suddenly appeared with John’s handgun and stated he was going to ‘put a new smiley face on the wall’. Mary yanked it out of Sherlock’s hand and told him to make himself useful by cleaning up the mess he’d made in his room. He’d looked like he was going to argue until she put her hand on her hip and given him the same glare she’d given his brother.

Mary had wandered off to another part of the flat when John arrived home. After an exhausting reunion in which a punch was thrown, a manly embrace turned into a hug, and a story of what happened after a fall was told, Mary wasn’t surprised to find Sherlock and John asleep on the sofa when she came back with the tea. Sherlock’s head was resting on John’s thigh. She could see the fingers of John’s hand wrapped gently in the curls on the back of Sherlock’s head. John was snoring softly with his head tilted at what would certainly turn into a painful angle come morning. Mary covered each of them with blankets from the cupboard before dropping a kiss on John’s temple. She smiled as she walked from the room. “Welcome home, boys.”


End file.
